Ressurection
by Suma Akila
Summary: Locked in a cage, for two hundred years. Fighting, desperately, agaisnt destruction. Then finally, release, into a more modern world, where the presence of a Demon is unknown, and uncalled for. This is Ciel's resurrection.


Resurrection

Rebirth

It was like rising from the depths of hell, fighting off the tendrils of death as they wound around and grasped frantically at life. It was methodical, as if in slow motion, as the ground budged, bulged upwards, cracked and began to fall apart.

It was just a mass, at first, and then the dirt began to crumble away and fall back from the ground in which it came, pouring in rivers away from the seemingly resurrected body. It was still hunched over, a mere hull of a thing, as a cloud of stirred up dust billowed away from it, picked up by the softly blowing wind, as if nature itself was hefting this thing, this being, up into its standing position.

Hair, long and overgrown, shagged over the bowed head to hang limply around an unseen face. The sun, once struggling in the sky against the clouds that tried to suffocate it, breached through with golden silver rays of warmth that streamed in a column at an angle down to earth, lighting on the figure that had raised like a phoenix out of the ashes.

All action froze, eyes riveted to the spot, disbelieving, uncomprehending.

And then, like a great animal that had just risen from a long slumber, it began to shake, fanning out what was left of the loose dirt and grit upon its body, stretching in a way that was almost completely feline, as if it weren't the form of a human being standing there, amongst the currently frozen battle.

When seemingly content, a head was seen tilting side to side, a loud enough crack emanating from the neck that the closest ones, who weren't really that close at all, could hear the deepness of it, as if the tension collecting in the bones had been settled for a while.

The only clothing on the form was baggy pants, dipped at the waist, covering the top part of bare feet. Skin, porcelain even evident from the dirt still caked upon it, rolled over lithe muscles as shoulders hefted and rotated backwards, testing.

Hands were brought up to the hidden face, flexed to test the function of fingers, then fisted as another series of cracks were heard from those joints as well. Apparently finding everything satisfactory the hands lower to sides, a heavy silence descending even further over the surrounding combatants as no one knew quite how to react to this stranger who had appeared at a rather crucial point.

And then, only then, when the air was stale with withheld breaths and old cloying blood, did the figure look up slowly, gaze sliding along the ground and then up the darkening horizon to look into the sky, lips curling into a strange vicious smile, parting just enough to allow the appearance of a single fang.

Those eyes, vibrant and sharp and filled with a lust that had little to do with sex and very much to do with blood. Deep, relentless orbs of fresh spilt sea water the most shocking blue, darkening at the edges, only to be ringed by a surprising hue of electric purple, which tipped the current world nearly on its side.

A flurry of motion, and soon the two sides were once more separated, flanking it on either side as it continued to gaze up at the sky. The eyes seemed unfocused, staring past every other life form as it locked in on the clouds rolling lazily by, as if a battle were not really taking place.

It couldn't help it, really. So long had it been since it had seen the sky. Too long, at least the real sky. Or the breeze. It closed its eyes and inhaled slowly, reveling in the way the wind caressed through shaggy inky blue-black locks and danced over its naked flesh.

It had forgotten how good it felt. It had forgotten how good dirt and grass felt beneath bare feet. Experimentally it flexed its toes, scrunching them up to dig into the loose dirt, and nearly sighed in pleasure. Yes, it was all so achingly familiar.

A sound, a shout, brought it out of its memories, and that made it slightly irritated. Didn't people know? Couldn't they see? It was enjoying itself. It was enjoying reconnecting to the sights, to the sounds, smells and feel of things. It was enjoying itself completely.

And it did not appreciate its moment being interrupted.

It didn't even really understand what had been said to jerk it away from its thoughts either. That didn't matter, because it would have been upset regardless of the words. It was rude, if not downright a sin, to interrupt another when they are deep in their own thoughts, no matter what the circumstance.

So, reluctantly relinquishing its thoughts of peacefulness that it had allowed to slip into its mind, it narrowed those strange colored orbs and began to look around for the source of its most recent irritation, wondering if perhaps it should punish whoever it was for being so intolerable.

It didn't take it long, because the voice decided to call out again, frantically, drawing its attention to the person like a moth drawn to a flame. Or, more appropriately, like a predator honing in on its chosen prey.

In a flash it was behind the person, too fast for perhaps anyone to notice, too fast for the other to actually respond other than to begin to turn his head to look over his shoulder with wide eyes before its fist is brought up to connect with the other's jaw and it watched, only partly satisfied, as the blonde headed male plunged towards the ground, hitting with a hard enough impact to cause the ground to shake.

That strange smile returned to its lips, serene and yet not quite fulfilled as it looked up to take in its current surroundings.

They all looked the same. At least to it, they did. The same types of expressions, the same types of defensive statures, the same clothing. It didn't understand what they could be fighting over, but really, it didn't even care.

It really only cared that it's moment had been shattered, and it wasn't sure when it would get another time to be as free. Surely he could stay since he had escaped? Well, that wasn't the right way to think about the situation, it thought. No, escaped was not quite right.

Rather, liberated from its prison.

And what a glorious moment that had been, when the too dark prison had been opened to reveal the light spilling in from outside, sounds and scents flooding its senses as it stepped out, eyes darting around. Nothing at that point mattered, not even how it had gotten out, but immediately it had arrived at that current place, drawn to it, for no particular reason.

Interesting, if not a bit flabbergasting.

It blinked slowly, drawn out of its own thoughts once more, its eyes still focused on the man beneath it that groaned and moved, propping himself up on his hands and knees, red hair falling around his shoulders.

He looked over his shoulder, up at it, through cracked glasses, with green eyes that flashed in numerous questions, but it didn't care. In fact, it didn't really want to be around the other male, and so it turned to walk away.

Though, someone else had different ideas, and it came face to face with a male that, with a cocked head, it realized that it somewhat recognized, though it couldn't really place a finger on where.

Again, it feels a spike of irritation. It didn't like not knowing. It despised not being able to control. So, it's eyes narrowed, and its jaw clenched as, moving with some habit formed gesture, it flicks its hand to the side, motioning for the man before him to move.

But the man before him did not, at least not immediately. Instead, with dark hair that fell to each side of his face and a lock that tumbled between his eyes, his lips curled into a semi-smile, a mocking smile. Eyes the color of the deepest burgundy, set within a slender, high cheek boned visage, and a pointy chin. Skin the color of milk, with arched brows of onyx that bowed on his forehead.

It watched, with disdain, as the man before it wrapped an arm, perfectly garbed in black fabric that it didn't really comprehend, (though it looked like some type of military uniform) around his midsection, and offered the smallest of bows from his waist, peering up at it from behind long, thick lashes with an expression that made it pause.

And then the man's grin grew, slyer, even though it could tell that deep down the man before him was surprised to see it. Why? Why? Who was this man, and why did he provoke such feelings within it's being?

Smooth words, rich in baritone silk and devilish intent, curled out towards it, and it froze as they entered its mind, stroking at its memories, coaxing it from its self-restrained ignorance, forcing it to remember, to recall, to _know. _

"Welcome back, your Highness."

And then a blinding pain exploded through its brain, and it couldn't quite place the sound that ripped from its throat as it pressed its palm to either side of its head, as if trying to block out reality.

All the while, Sebastian stood watching, in that small bowed way, at the vision of perfection, the perfect creation, the newest of Demon's being awoken after two hundred years of waiting.

…..

My first attempt at a Ciel/Sebastian fanfic. Hope you like it so far. If not, eh, flames are welcome. I don't do really good at writing past tense, but I'm sure I will manage.


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